Happy Valentine's Day
by Klyntaliah
Summary: Kate convinces Clint to ask Natasha out on Valentine's Day, but things don't go the way he planned. Clintasha. (Clint is closer to the comic-book version, Natasha is more MCU-ish, which is why it's listed as a crossover.)
1. First

**This is my first comic-verse fic, so I would love some feedback on characterization. Let me know what you think!**

* * *

"Happy Valentine's Day!"

Kate Bishop was a hoodie-clad blur as she skidded into the kitchen, sporting a huge grin. She sat down at the kitchen table and beamed at her startled mentor.

"Gosh, is it Valentine's Day already?" Clint Barton said. He glanced at the calendar that hung on the wall. "Hey, you're right – Happy Valentine's Day!"

"I'm meeting Sean today," Kate went on excitedly, referring to her boyfriend. "He said he'd take me out on Valentine's Day. I've been waiting for this day since, like, last Valentine's Day!" She reached for the coffee mug Clint had slid her and raised it to her lips.

"Well, that's great!" Clint tried to sound more enthusiastic than he felt.

Kate noticed his tone right away and looked up. "Hey, Clint… do _you_ have a date tonight?"

"'Course not," Clint said with affected nonchalance, getting a cup of yogurt out of the fridge. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Kate rolled her eyes. "You don't need to have a girlfriend to ask someone out on Valentine's Day. You can just ask someone out for the day."

"You can?" Clint asked doubtfully.

"Sure, I do it all the time," Kate replied, reaching for a banana.

"If you say so." Clint took a gulp of coffee straight out of the pitcher.

"Ask Natasha Romanoff out," Kate suggested casually.

Clint almost spit out his coffee. "What? No!"

"Why not?" Kate challenged, her eyes twinkling with fun.

"Well, because I – I mean, she – well – she might not want to," Clint stammered, blushing a little.

Kate shrugged. "Ask her and find out."

"I couldn't do that," Clint said quickly. He ducked his head self-consciously on the pretense of getting a spoon out of the drawer.

"Why not?" Kate stood up and stepped toward him. "You've had a crush on her forever, and this is the perfect opportunity to make the first move."

Clint managed a few unintelligible syllables.

"And I'm not around her a _ton,_ but from what I've seen, I think she likes you, too," Kate added.

Clint froze. "What."

Kate shrugged again. "It's just a gut feeling I have. And for what it's worth, I think you guys are made for each other."

Clint blushed again.

Kate grabbed Clint's phone from the counter and held it out to him. "Now call her."

"What? I – I couldn't do that," Clint repeated with an embarrassed smile. He raised a hand to uncomfortably rub the back of his neck, elbow pointing upwards. "I mean, I wouldn't want to screw up our partnership."

Kate stared at him. "Clint. This is one date. It's not like you're asking her to marry you." She turned on Clint's phone and pulled up Natasha's number in his contacts. "Now just do it."

+)(-O-)(+

Clint nervously took the phone and stared down at Natasha's number. Then, before he could change his mind, he poked the call button and lifted the phone to his ear.

"Atta boy," Kate whispered.

The phone started ringing, and Clint swallowed, his palms feeling sweaty.

Then the ringing stopped.

"You've reached Natasha Romanoff," Natasha's voice said. A surge of adrenaline hit Clint, and he stabbed the end button.

Kate gaped at him. "What did you do that for?" she demanded.

"I – I changed my mind," Clint said, his heart pounding.

Kate huffed. "So you just hung up on her?"

"No, her machine picked up." Clint frowned at the screen. "At least, I think it was her machine."

"Wow, are you really that scared of her?" Kate said, crossing her arms.

"I'm not scared of _her,"_ Clint said honestly. He kicked at the floor. "Just a little scared of… how she's going to _react."_

"Come on! What's the worst that could happen?" Kate persisted.

"Um, she could say no? And it would make things really awkward next time I see her?"

"Or she could say yes, and the two of you could have a blast!" Kate pointed out. "Just imagine: you're sitting at a restaurant. Natasha's sitting across from you. The smell of burning candles fills the air, mingled with the alluring scent—"

Clint raised an eyebrow.

"What? Just trying to set the mood," Kate defended herself. "Natasha smiles at you and says, 'I'm having a great time tonight,' and you say, 'Me, too,' and then—"

Clint's phone rang.

"Oh, shut up, you," Kate growled, snatching up the phone. She stared at the screen, and a grin spread across her face.

"Clint. It's her."

Clint's eyes snapped to the phone. "Who?" he asked stupidly, his heart starting to pound again.

Kate snorted. "Natasha Romanoff, duh! Are you going to answer it, or should I?" she asked, her finger hovering over the green button.

"No!" Clint seized the phone. He had no idea what Kate would say to Natasha if she answered, and he certainly didn't want to find out.

"Well? Answer it!" Kate urged him.

Clint hesitated, staring at the screen. The he hit the accept button and raised the phone to his ear, his palms feeling sweaty again.

"Hello?" he said nervously.

"Clint." Natasha's clipped, businesslike tone came over the line, making his heart jump. "I saw you tried to call a minute ago. What's going on?"

"Um…" Clint swallowed and glanced at Kate, who was giving him the thumbs-up and nodding enthusiastically.

"I was just, uh… wondering what you have planned for the day," he said, feeling rather proud of himself for the good start. 

"Oh." Natasha sounded a bit puzzled. "Um… well, Fury has me in meetings, like, all day long. So it should be a pretty full day. Why, what's up?"

"Oh," Clint said, feeling half-disappointed, half-relieved. He put his hand over the receiver and whispered, "She says she's busy all day."

"Nothing," Clint went on. "I was just—" He broke off. Kate was shaking her head wildly, motioning for him to stop. _Are you free later tonight,_ she mouthed exaggeratedly.

Clint gulped. "Are you – are you free later tonight?"

"Mmm… depends on what you mean by tonight," Natasha said. "My last debrief ends at seven. After that, I'm free."

"Okay, cool," Clint said. "So should we say… seven-thirtyish?"

"Umm… I guess, sure?"

"Great!" Clint said, feeling relieved. "See you then!" He started to hang up.

"Wait," Natasha interrupted.

Clint put the phone to his ear. "Yes?"

"You know, you still haven't told me what we're doing."

"Oh, yeah. Um…" Clint thought for a minute. He hadn't really considered what they would be doing. "Well… what do _you_ want to do?" he asked finally.

There was a long pause. "Clint," Natasha said with a nervous laugh. "This is so weird. You call me up asking about my work schedule, then you want to set a time with me to do who-knows-what. Once we have a time scheduled, you say you never had anything planned in the first place, and you want _me_ to decide what we're doing. Is everything okay, Clint? Are you drunk? Are you being held at gunpoint or something?"

 _Debatable,_ Clint thought, glancing at Kate. He was starting to sweat. Typical of him, finally get a girl to go on a date with him, only to realize he forgot to mention it was a date in the first place.

"Uh, no, everything's fine," he said quickly.

"Are you sure?" Natasha asked doubtfully.

"Yeah, of course."

Another pause. "Then what—"

"A date," Clint blurted out.

Silence. "What?"

"A date," Clint repeated, squirming uncomfortably. "I'm trying to ask you out on a date… I mean, that is, if you want…" He trailed off awkwardly.

There was the longest pause yet. Then Natasha said, _"Ohhhh."_ And burst out laughing.

Clint was blushing furiously. If she thought it was so ridiculous, then maybe he should just hang up. But then she spoke again.

"Okay. _Now_ it makes sense," she said, a smile in her voice. "Well then in that case, yes, I would love to go on a date with you."

Giddiness exploded inside Clint at her words, and he found himself grinning from ear to ear.

"So you said seven-thirty, right?" Natasha went on.

"Huh? Oh! Yeah. I can come pick you up. I mean, if you want…"

"Sure. So where are we going?"

"A restaurant," Clint blurted out, thinking about what Kate had said. "Uh, if that's okay with you?"

"Sounds great. What restaurant, should I dress up?"

"Sure," Clint said. "Um, so… I guess that's all," he said awkwardly.

"Okay. See you tonight."

"'Bye," Clint said.

Natasha hung up.

Clint just stood there in shock, the dial tone filling his ear. "She… she said yes," he said in amazement.

Kate whooped and grabbed Clint by the arms, spinning him into an impromptu victory dance around the kitchen.

* * *

 ** **And there you have it!****

 ** **I've written MCU Clint but never comic-book Clint, **and** **I've** never written Kate Bishop** **.** Soo... were they in-character? **

**Leave me some concrit if you like, and I'll get the next part up soon! :)**


	2. Second

**Sorry this took me so long! Next week is finals week for me, so I haven't had much free time. :/**

 **Shoutout to my homie GabycatStark13 for her suggestions! I tried to make Clint a little sassier in this one, though it was tough, given the context. DX**

 **Also, I finally read the the Fraction/Aja comic, so I think I've got a little bit better hold on Clint and Kate's characters. :)**

* * *

"This is awesome. You guys are totally gonna hit it off, and you can thank me," Kate said loftily, adjusting the buttons on Clint's tuxedo. She laughed. "Wow, I'm like, more excited about your date than I am about mine."

"Guess that makes one of us." Clint forced a smile as the butterflies in his stomach did the Harlem Shake.

Kate frowned and looked up at him. "You're not nervous, are you?"

"Me? Nervous?" Clint let out a high-pitched laugh and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.

Kate slapped him reassuringly on the arm. _"Relax,_ Clint. This is _Natasha._ You two have known each other for how long now?"

"Yeah, but this is different," Clint pointed out, swallowing. It was. As professional partners, he and Natasha were a prefect team, working in seamless harmony. As friends, they were only slightly less in-sync and still great together. But as _romantic_ partners… it felt much different. Of course, Clint _had_ had a crush on Natasha forever, but he'd never actually acted on his feelings. They would be breaching a new aspect of their relationship that they'd never attempted before.

Kate shrugged. "If you say so. Just – practice smiling before you go. A _real_ smile, not a 'Hi-my-name's-Clint-I'm-about-to-die' smile." She smirked and turned to the mirror, preening.

Clint watched her for a minute. "So are you and Sean going somewhere cool?" he asked, trying to get his mind off his own date.

"Yeah, some restaurant downtown. I forget what it's called, but it's not as fancy as yours. Speaking of which, tell me the address of the restaurant I told you about again."

Clint took a deep breath. "One hundred twelve, Jamestown Boulevard. Brick building, first stop on the left," he recited, as Kate mouthed along with him.

"Perfect," she approved, giving him the thumbs-up.

"And, uh, what's it called again?" Clint asked sheepishly.

"The Silver Goblet. It's a five-star joint, I guarantee it. Been there a couple times. You'll love it."

Clint took another deep breath and blew out through his mouth. "Gee, I haven't taken anyone on a date in a while," he admitted.

"I know," Kate replied, smiling. "You wouldn't be this nervous if you did it more often."

"Well I try, but I always get all awkward," Clint confessed, shuffling his feet a little. "You do this more than me – any tips from the master?"

"Just be yourself," Kate advised. "You'll be great. It's not like this is someone you've never met before. I mean yeah, it'll be different, but not as bad as if this was a stranger. You've totally got this."

"Okay," Clint said, nodding violently as he tried to reassure himself. "Yeah. I've totally got this."

"Darn right you do! Sweep her off her feet!" Kate said happily, pushing him towards the door.

+)(-O-)(+

Clint pulled up in front of Natasha's house at seven-thirty on the dot. He hesitated, looking up at the house as his mind raced.

 _Should I go in? I should probably go in, she might not know I'm here. Although, it might be creepy if I go in. Yeah, it totally would. Wouldn't it?_

Clint went back and forth with himself in this way for several minutes. He had finally decided to just go to the porch and ring the doorbell when Natasha stepped outside and started walking towards the car.

Clint gulped, his heart starting to pound again. She looked fantastic. She was wearing a deep purple dress that highlighted her figure and emphasized her fiery hair, which was loosely secured away from her face so that it cascaded down her shoulders. A white bolero and matching heels completed the look.

Clint lifted his hand, then changed his mind mid-wave and turned it into a hair-ruffle. But Natasha grinned and waved at him, so he waved back.

 _You look great. That should be the first thing I say when she gets in the car. It's nice, and not awkward. And true. And I don't have to mess it up. Practice. You look great. You look great. You—_

The door opened, and Natasha slid into the seat. "Hi!"

"You look – hi. I mean, no, sorry, you don't look high, you look great. Hi. You look great." Clint inwardly kicked himself.

Natasha just smiled. "You don't look too bad yourself, Barton."

"Yeah – I mean, thanks."

Natasha leaned back in her seat. "So, where to?"

Clint frowned. "The, uh… the Silver… Goblet? Yeah, The Silver Goblet. Kate told me about it. Supposed to be really good," he said. He mentally congratulated himself on getting through a sentence with such success.

"Okay. Sounds great," Natasha said.

Clint gave her a 'Hi-my-name's-Clint-I'm-about-to-die' smile and accelerated.

+)(-O-)(+

The ride to the restaurant was very awkward for Clint.

Mainly because he'd accidentally left his 'things-to-talk-about-if-there's-an-awkward-silence' list at home. And there were a lot of awkward silences.

At first, Clint tried to fill them with conversation, until he realized that Natasha didn't seem at all discomfited. She just leaned back calmly and spoke from time to time, not shutting off conversation, but not forcing it either. So, eventually, Clint stopped trying to initiate conversation and just answered whenever she spoke, even though he found the silence uncomfortable.

Finally, they turned onto Jamestown Boulevard.

 _One hundred twelve, first brick building on the left,_ Clint reminded himself, scanning the roads carefully with his eyes.

Finally, he saw it; a tall brick building on the left side of the street with the number '112' erected clearly on the side. Relieved, Clint pulled into the parking lot and parked the car. Then he looked up at the building. And froze.

'Howie's Barbershop', the sign announced clearly. Next to the words was a picture of a mustache and a pair of scissors.

"Wait, why are we here?" Natasha frowned in bewilderment.

"This is the address Kate gave me – I mean, I think it is," Clint said, double checking the building number. 112. The car suddenly felt rather close.

"Maybe it closed down," Natasha suggested.

Clint sighed. _I bet that's exactly what happened. Shucks._

"Hang on, sorry. I'll text her," he said, getting out his phone. As his thumbs moved quickly across the keypad, Natasha got out her own phone and started swiping intently at it. Probably checking her email.

 _[8:03 PM, sent]_ I think you gave me the wrong address

Clint drummed his fingers on the armrest and glanced at Natasha. Kate always texted back right away, this shouldn't take long.

 _[8:08 PM, sent]_ Kate? Where are you?

 _[8:10 PM, sent]_ Sorry to interrupt what I'm sure is an enthralling date, but I need help. Answer your text

 _[8:11 PM, sent]_ Kate!

Nearly ten minutes had passed since they had pulled up. Clint decided to try calling her.

She answered after the fourth ring. "WAZZUP, HAWK BOY," she yelled over the loud music in the background.

Clint said, "Are you sure you gave me the right address?"

"WHAT?" Kate yelled after a minute.

Clint repeated the question.

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU, HANG ON A SEC," Kate shouted. The music gradually faded, and Clint heard a door close. "Okay. Sorry, Sean took me to a bar before we go to the restaurant. What were you saying?"

"Give me that address again."

"One-twelve, Jamestown Boulevard. Don't tell me you got lost."

Clint sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Nope, I'm at that address. But either your restaurant is on vacation or you've got seriously screwed up taste in cuisine."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's not here."

"What? It has to be."

"Well, it isn't."

"Come on, I was just at that place – OH CRAP!" Kate yelled.

"What?"

"I just remembered, that place closed down like six months ago! There's some crapjob barbershop there now!"

"Thanks for letting me know ahead of time," Clint grumbled.

Kate exhaled. "I am so sorry."

"It's okay," Clint said. "Just help me out. What's the closest restaurant from here?"

"Umm, I think there's a McDonald's like five minutes away."

Clint groaned and massaged his forehead.

"As far as the closest thing that could be considered classy, that would be an Olive Garden that's like forty-five minutes away from there."

Clint glanced at the clock. "I think that's too far," he groaned. He fell silent, wracking his brain.

"Okay, I got it," Kate announced briskly. "Here's what you're gonna have to do, so listen up. You know that movie theater down on twenty-ninth?"

"Um, yeah…?" Clint said apprehensively.

"Okay, go in there and watch a movie, and buy some popcorn to help tide you over. That can be your date. And then, when it's over, go get fast food."

Clint hesitated.

"I know it's not as nice as a fancy restaurant. But, honestly, what else are you gonna do?"

Clint nodded. She had a point.

"Okay," he agreed slowly. "Hey, good luck on your date by the way."

"You, too. I'm sure you'll need it."

"No kidding," Clint said before hanging up.

"So," he said aloud. Natasha turned to him expectantly, and Clint quailed a little. What if she was unhappy with the new arrangement? Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Clint braced himself.

"So, um, she said that… we should go to the movies instead. And then stop for fast food after," he said hesitantly. He groaned inwardly at how lame it sounded. "Sorry, I mean, if you don't want to, and you'd rather just go home, then that's fine, I…"

"Hey, no… that sounds great," Natasha said.

Clint relaxed, relieved but a little surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course," she replied. "I didn't come because I wanted to go to some fancy restaurant. I came because I wanted to spend time with you." She said it so matter-of-factly that Clint found himself blushing again.

"Oh, um… good," he said awkwardly.

Natasha leaned back again. "Movies it is. Let's do this," she said; and Clint put the car in reverse.


	3. Third

**ACK! Sorry this is taking so freakin' long for me to post - I actually wrote it last year, so it isn't very good and I'm editing as I go. Plus, I'm working on a longer Clintasha fic right now, so that's taking up a lot of my time.**

 **But the end is in sight now, so hopefully I can finish posting this soon! Thanks for sticking with it! :)**

 **-K/Talia**

* * *

The movie theater was about twenty-five minutes away. By the time they got there, the sun had set, and a light snow was drifting from the sky.

The inside of the theater was much warmer, and smelled like popcorn. It was also very crowded, and the line for the tickets was abnormally long.

Clint and Natasha moved to the wall to look at the list of movies being shown.

"So, uh… see anything good?" Clint said at length.

"How about the new Mission: Impossible movie?" Natasha suggested. "Those are supposed to be really good."

"Okay," Clint agreed quickly.

They had made is just in time. There was a showing for the movie in fifteen minutes, and the one after that wasn't till eleven.

The two of them stepped into the ticket line. It was moving excruciatingly slowly. Clint kept glancing anxiously at his watch and muttering "Come on, come on" under his breath.

"Sorry," he said to Natasha after nearly ten minutes of standing in line.

She turned to him, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "For what?"

"This is taking forever."

"How is that your fault?" she countered.

"Uh…" Clint toed the floor uncomfortably. "I dunno."

"Next," the desk manager said. Clint stepped forward, relieved.

"Two tickets to eight-fifty Mission: Impossible, please," he said.

"That'll be twelve-fifty," the man said, holding out his hand.

Clint reached for his wallet. And froze. It wasn't there. He started frantically searching through his other pockets, but all he had was his phone and his car keys.

Clint turned to Natasha, mortified. "I don't have my wallet," he said in shock.

She just stared blankly back at him, equally at a loss. There was a long pause.

"Well, if you can't pay, then please move," the desk manager ordered. "You're holding up the line."

Clint turned away and trudged towards the exit, head lowered in disappointment and hands stuffed in his pockets. This was a disaster. He should never have asked her out in the first place, he should have just stayed home. Then Natasha's Valentine's Day wouldn't have sucked, and he wouldn't have humiliated himself.

After a moment, Natasha's hands twisted around his elbow, and she fell into step beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," she said softly. Clint gritted his teeth but said nothing.

Neither of them spoke again the whole way out to the car. Clint collapsed in the driver's seat and put his head in his hands. Natasha didn't say anything, but he could feel her watching him.

"I'm so sorry," he said finally, raising his head. "This whole night – it sucks. It really does. I'm sorry, I should never have asked you to – I mean, this is such a mess. I'm really sorry, Natasha. I'm an idiot and I ruined your holiday. I'm so, so sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Natasha said, when he had practically apologized himself hoarse. "It was a simple mistake. You didn't ruin my holiday, it's not as bad as you're making it out to be."

"No, you're right, it's worse," Clint groaned. "Look, let's just forget this night ever happened. I can take you home now if you want."

Natasha was quiet for a minute. "Do you want me to go home?"

He didn't really, but he also didn't want to pressure her to stay. And she probably didn't want to stay.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked.

"Do you want me to go home?" Natasha repeated.

"Do you want to go home?"

Natasha hesitated. "Well…" she began. "Not really. I mean, we still haven't _technically_ had our date yet. But if you'd rather be alone right now, I completely understand. We can do this some other time."

Clint froze, and slowly raised his head again. Had he heard right? She didn't want to go home? She wanted to do this some other time? It was also just registering that she had rested her head on his shoulder on the way out to the car...

He turned to look at her, hope rising. "Um… well, if you don't want to go home, then maybe we can do something else," he said hopefully.

"Only if you want to," Natasha said, watching him closely.

A few heartbeats passed. Then Natasha started smiling.

"Okay – why don't we just go to my house? I think I can find something for us to eat there."

Clint was about to agree, but he stopped himself. Natasha obviously wasn't prepared for visitors, so it would be inconsiderate to force her to entertain on such short notice. He wasn't really prepared for visitors either, but he was the one who had asked her out in the first place, so he figured he should do the hosting.

"No, we can go to my place," he said. "I mean, if that's okay with you?"

It was.

+)(-O-)(+

"Okay, um… I think I figured out what we should do," Clint said as they walked down the hall towards his flat. "We'll order some pizza, and then watch a movie. Is that okay…?"

"Yeah, that sounds great," Natasha said, coming to a stop in front of his door.

"Okay," Clint said, fumbling with his keys. After trying several incorrect keys, he finally managed to get the door open.

Surprisingly, his house didn't look too bad. Kate must have tidied up a little before she left.

Clint tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his tuxedo as they walked into the living room. "Gosh, I can't wait to get out of – wait," he interrupted himself, turning to his partner. "What about you?"

"What _about_ me?"

"You probably want to take your clothes off, too," Clint said; then he realized how he'd sounded, and heat rushed to his face. "I mean! Sorry, I just meant – you probably want to change too, 'cause that doesn't look comfortable," he corrected himself, gesturing to her dress.

Natasha looked at her dress. "I didn't bring a change of clothes."

Clint sunk onto the couch, his mind whizzing. Why hadn't he thought this through? Natasha's house was a good forty minutes away, by the time they got back—

Clint snapped his fingers. "I got it! You can borrow some of Kate's clothes! She's staying with me right now, and she's about your size," he said. "I mean – if you don't mind?"

"No, that's fine," Natasha agreed.

"Great! I'll ask her if it's cool," Clint said, whipping out his phone.

"Sounds good. I'll go ahead and order the pizza," Natasha said, heading into the kitchen.

"Okay," Clint said.

 _[9:27 PM, sent]_ Hey we're home, can N borrow some of your clothes?

 _[9:28 PM, Kate]_ You brought her home?

 _[9:29 PM, sent]_ Yeah and she needs clothes

 _[9:29 PM, Kate]_ What for?

 _[9:29 PM, sent]_ To wear

 _[9:29 PM, Kate]_ No kidding

 _[9:30 PM, sent]_ So can she?

 _[9:30 PM, Kate]_ Hmmmmm

 _[9:30 PM, Kate]_ Pants only

 _[9:30 PM, sent]_ What?

 _[9:30 PM, Kate]_ I said pants only. None of my shirts

 _[9:30 PM, sent]_ Are you kidding me?

 _[9:31 PM, Kate]_ Nope. All my shirts are dirty

 _[9:33 PM, sent]_ Great now what? She can't go without a shirt!

 _[9:34 PM, Kate]_ Lol idk. Figure something out

 _[9:34 PM, sent]_ KATE HELP ME

 _[9:34 PM, Kate]_ Umm idk? Give her a towel or something

 _[9:34 PM, sent]_ Kate this isn't funny

 _[9:35 PM, Kate]_ Lol

 _[9:35 PM, sent]_ You need to wash your shirts more

 _[9:35 PM, Kate]_ Lol I know right?

 _[9:37 PM, sent]_ So do I give her a dirty shirt or one of mine?

 _[9:37 PM, Kate]_ You would give her a dirty shirt?

 _[9:38 PM, sent]_ Ok so one of mine?

 _[9:38 PM, Kate]_ You said it hawk boy, not me ;)

 _[9:38 PM, sent]_ WHY ARE YOU WINKING AT ME

 _[9:38 PM, Kate]_ Lol nothing

 _[9:38 PM, Kate]_ Bye!

Clint went to Kate's room and found a clean pair of pants, then headed to his own room. It took him a while to find a clean shirt, but he finally found a purple T-shirt hanging in the back of his closet. When he returned to the living room, Natasha was leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed.

"So, uh…" Clint said awkwardly. "Kate said all her shirts were dirty, but here's some of her pants, and one of mine." He looked down at the pile of clothes, and suddenly, they looked very inadequate.

"Sorry, I mean, uh…" He scratched the back of his head, blushing. "I mean, if you don't want to, then it's okay, but if you just want to, like, go home or something, then it's not too late to change your mind…"

Natasha raised her eyes to the ceiling and smirked, shaking her head slowly.

"Clint," she said, stepping forward and taking him by the shoulder. "You need to stop apologizing for every little thing that goes wrong. Out of the three dozen things you've said you were sorry for, you were only actually responsible for about two of them." She tilted her head. "Also, unless you really don't want me here, stop asking me if I want to go home, okay? Because I don't. If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be."

Clint swallowed, feeling a little better. He could tell she meant what she said, and she really did want to be there. He managed to smile at her, but he was too focused on her hand on his shoulder to say anything.

Natasha took the clothes from him. "There are okay," she said, but she had a strange smile on her face.

Clint hesitated. "Why are you smiling?"

Natasha chuckled. "Just wondering if all of Kate's shirts are actually dirty, or if she made that up so you'd give me one of yours."

Clint stared at her, then joined in with her laughter. She was right, that was definitely something that Kate would do.

"Do you want me to get you one of hers?" he asked, grinning.

"Nope," Natasha said, hugging the clothes to her chest. "I'm good with these." She smiled mischievously at him, then turned and started for the bathroom.

Clint watched as she closed the door, a warm feeling growing in his chest. He smiled to himself, shook his head, then headed back to his room to change.

* * *

 **Ehe, soo... I know this story doesn't have many followers, but it makes me really happy when people review - even if you just say like "cool", because otherwise it feels like I'm talking to myself. x)**

 **ALSO shoutout to Jesuslovesmarina for reviewing! I'm so glad you like it so far, and your comments inspired me to keep working on this one. :)**

 **-K/Talia**


	4. Fourth

**Annnnd here's the end of this slightly cheesy story! :D Thanks for sticking with it, even through the months of inactivity and rough patches.**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Clint sat on the living room floor, sifting through a bin full of DVDs. He was trying to decide what they should watch, and keeping an eye out specifically for any of the Mission: Impossible movies, since Natasha had expressed an interest. It had been a while since he'd been through this bin – most of these movies, he'd didn't even know he had.

 _Maybe I should just wait for her to finish changing so we can both decide what to watch,_ he thought, pulling out one of the Bourne movies and a cheesy rom-com. _Although, she probably wouldn't mind if I just picked one out. Would she…? No, of course she wouldn't. Or, I could pick out a few and let her choose between them. But what if she didn't like any of them? Or I could just pick one out and ask her if it's okay, and if she doesn't like it, she can pick out a different one…_

"Made up your mind yet?"

Natasha's voice, right in his ear, made him jump. He whipped his head around, and found himself nose-to-nose with her.

"Uh, no," he stammered. He set the rom-com back into the bin. "I think _this_ one's good, but most of these—" He broke off, flustered. Natasha was leaning onto his back, her chin nestled in his shoulder as she peered into the bin. He cleared his throat. "Most of these I've never even seen before."

Natasha reached past him and pulled one of the Star Trek movies out of the bin.

"Oh, I've seen that one, that's good," Clint said, half-turning his head to look at her.

Natasha sat back and flipped the case over to examine the back cover. Clint watched her out of the corner of his eye as she tucked her hair behind her ear, frowning down at it.

"Wanna watch that one?" Clint asked.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to watch these movies," Natasha said, looking up at him.

"Okay, perfect," Clint said eagerly.

The doorbell rang.

"There's the pizza!" Natasha said cheerfully.

"I'll get it," Clint said, standing up.

He opened the door, and the deliveryman held out a pizza box. "Ten-fifty, please."

Clint smacked his forehead. "Forgot my wallet." He jogged back to his room, and finally located his wallet in the pocket of his jeans, which were in a heap on the floor.

When he returned to the kitchen, Natasha was taking the pizza from the deliveryman. Clint paid the man and he left.

"Okay, I'm starving," Natasha stated.

"Me too," Clint agreed. As the smell of hot pizza began to fill the room, he was starting to finally realize how hungry he actually was. Up till then, he'd been too nervous to notice it.

"So, how are we gonna do this?" he asked. "Should we eat _while_ we watch, or before…"

"Before," Natasha said instantly. "I won't be able to focus when I'm this hungry," she explained blithely, turning toward the kitchen.

Clint followed her guiltily, heading to the pantry for beer. "Well, that's kind of my fault, so…"

Natasha smirked as she set the pizza on the table. "I'll give you 'kind of'."

"You're a good sport," Clint told her, getting paper plates.

Natasha's smile grew. "Well… I get a lot of practice."

Clint paused. "Wait. Are you saying I get in trouble a lot?"

Natasha widened her eyes with feigned innocence. "Why would I say _that?"_

Clint grinned and shook his head, joining her at the table. This was more like what he was used to – their playful, tongue-in-cheek banter. He slid into the seat across from his partner, passing her a beer, already starting to feel more relaxed.

"Dig in."

+)(-O-)(+

Once they had finished eating, they headed straight to the living room to watch the movie. Clint had some trouble finding the remote, but much to his relief, he finally located it underneath the couch. The last thing he needed was to lose the remote after everything else that had gone wrong.

Natasha plopped down onto the couch while Clint put the movie in. Then he lowered himself onto the couch a short distance away from his partner. Sure, he was gaining confidence and things weren't as awkward, but Natasha was pretty particular about her personal space, and he wasn't sure if she'd wand him to intrude on it.

But as soon as he sat down, Natasha scooted over to him and curled up at his side, taking hold of his arm.

"I might not be awake for the whole thing," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder (Clint's stomach performed some impressive gymnastics). "I've had kind of a long day."

Clint cleared his throat. "Well… that's partly my fault too. So it's okay."

For the first ten minutes or so of the movie, Clint couldn't focus on the movie at all because he was so aware of Natasha next to him. But it was a good movie, one of his favorites, so as time went on, he was gradually able to pay more attention to it.

And as time passed, Natasha grew heavier and warmer against his side, until Clint looked down and saw that she was asleep.

+)(-O-)(+

Clint was jerked awake by a loud clatter at the door. He blinked, wondering how long he'd been asleep. The movie had ended, and Natasha—

—Was asleep on his lap?!

Somehow she had moved so that she was on top of him, her head was on his arm, so he was kind of cradling her. One of her arms was around his shoulders, her other hand was fisted against his chest.

"I had a blast!" Kate announced, staggering into the living room. She looked disheveled and tired, but she was beaming.

"Seriously, best Valentine's Day ever," she continued; then she stopped.

"Oh my gosh," she hissed. "Is she asleep?"

Clint made a shushing motion and nodded.

Kate's grin grew wider. "Okay, okay hang on a sec, don't move." Clint eyed her apprehensively as she rummaged through her purse.

Kate produced her phone and held it up. "Okay, smile!"

Clint raised an eyebrow. "She'll kill you if you take her picture while she's sleeping," he whispered. Natasha stirred a little, and he glanced nervously down.

"Prepare my eulogy," Kate said with a chuckle, lowering her phone and smiling at the screen. "You guys are, like, nauseatingly adorable."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Katie."

Kate grinned cheekily at him and put her phone away. "Okay, night!" She headed to her room.

Natasha stirred a little again, and Clint looked down at her. Her eyelids fluttered, and Clint hesitated, wondering if he had time to slide her off his lap before she woke up.

Too late – she opened her eyes. Clint remained silent as she frowned, glancing around the dark room, taking account of her surroundings.

Finally her eyes alighted on him, and a smile crept across her lips. "Hey."

"Hey," Clint replied.

Natasha blinked slowly, looking placidly up at him. "Sorry I fell asleep on you. Guess I was more tired than I thought."

"It's not a problem," Clint said quickly. "Did you like the movie?"

"What I saw of it," she replied, smiling sheepishly.

"Good."

Natasha arched her back, stretching. "What time is it?"

Clint stared carefully at his watch. "It's after one."

"Hm." Natasha lay still for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. "Well," she said finally. "I should go home now."

She got up slowly, and Clint immediately missed her warmth.

"I'll drive you home," he offered, standing up.

+)(-O-)(+

The ride back to Natasha's house was silent. But this time, it didn't feel awkward. Natasha was laying back in the passenger seat with her eyes closed, and the hum of the heater filled the car the whole way over.

 _I wonder if I should go inside,_ Clint was thinking. _That might be creepy. On the other hand, it would seem rude if I just dropped her off and left, right? Maybe I should just walk her up to the door. Would that be awkward?_

Luckily, Natasha solved all his problems when they arrived by saying, "Hey, come on in and I'll give you your clothes back."

They entered her house, and Clint sat down in the kitchen while Natasha went into her room to change. He was starting to feel drowsy again, and he was worried that he would doze off in her kitchen, but luckily, she didn't take long.

She came into the kitchen a few minutes, holding the clothes.

"Here," she said, passing them to him as he stood.

"Thanks," Clint said. "And thanks for, um, going out with me." He lowered his head and kicked at the floor.

"Thanks for asking."

"And, uh…" Clint paused. "Sorry again about everything that, you know. Went wrong."

Natasha shook her head. "It's not a big deal. Everything turned out okay."

Clint nodded. The evening had not been what he'd expected, but she was right – it had been fun. And, as frustrating as all the pointless driving around had been, at least it meant that the two of them had spent more time together than they might have otherwise.

"Well," he said slowly. "I guess I should go."

"Okay, well, thanks for dropping me off."

"No problem."

"We should do this again sometime," Natasha added.

Clint blinked. "You – you really want to?" he stammered.

"Well, you know. If you want," Natasha teased.

Clint nodded mutely.

Natasha smiled. Then she stepped forward and set her warm hand at the back of his neck.

Clint froze.

Natasha rose up on tiptoe and lightly brushed his cheek with her lips. Clint stared uncomprehendingly down at her. The spot where her lips had touched him was tingling, and he vacantly raised a hand to touch it.

He must have been staring at her longer than he thought, because she chuckled, sounding slightly uncomfortable, but mostly amused. "Okay… bye," she said, nudging him gently towards the door.

Clint stumbled, then managed a smile at her as he headed for the door.

"Oh, and Clint?"

"Huh?" he turned.

Natasha folded her arms and smirked at him.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

-END-

* * *

 **I hope the characterization was okay - that's what I was a little unsure of.**

 **If you liked it, you should keep an eye out for my oneshots that are coming up (hopefully within the next month or so, but ahem. You know how I am about posting in a timely manner. So I GUESS WE'LL SEE. XD).**

 **Thanks again for reading! :)**


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